Popping The Question
by pancakesareking
Summary: [Slash] RaceSpot. AU.Race might move, and Spot will do anything to make him stay.


Hey there kiddies, I'm back with yet another slash-tastic fic featuring Spot Conlon and Racetrack Higgins. AU. Enjoy.  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
"So what do you want to talk about? Twenty minute walk over here, you know."  
  
Race sighed and looked up at his best friend. True, it had been a big favor to ask the other boy to walk all the way from Brooklyn to Manhattan, but it was his own fault he didn't have a car. He didn't tell Spot that. "My parents are getting a divorce" were the words that left Race's mouth, which led to an incredibly awkward silence.  
  
"Racey...Stuff like that is normal. People just don't stay in love, I guess. Look, you know I'm not good at comforting. And I don't see why you couldn't just tell me this over the phone. I'm not THAT poor. I do own a phone, you know." Truthfully, Spot was just trying to lighten the mood. Race looked so depressed, sitting on a bench with his legs drawn up to his chest, a frown fixed on his normally laughing face.  
  
It was unsettling, to say the least. "Dad," Race began, his voice hitching. Spot rolled, his eyes, hoping this wouldn't turn out all melodramatic, as Race continued. "He got a job offer in California, and he's going to take it. He's going for custody of me."  
  
Spot sucked in a breath before collapsing onto the bench beside Race. As hard as he tried, he couldn't get his thoughts in order. It just didn't make sense. Anthony Higgin's was his best friend, and had been all his life. It seemed like just yesterday the two boys had met in a sandbox and Spot had trampled on Race's castle, saying that it was shit. Of course, Race had been in awe of a four year old that said shit like it was no big thing.  
  
And BAM! Just like that, they were inseparable. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and inevitably, months turned into years. Twelve years! Spot Conlon would not let twelve years go to waste. No one knew him like Race did, no one could make him happy like Race did. He...he secretly wanted to be Sean "Spot" Higgin's.  
  
"...Spotty? Will you say something?"  
  
"He can't have you. You are 100% property of Spot Conlon." Spot said it seriously, though he confidently flashed his customary grin.  
  
Race smiled back, which appeared to be a strenuous move on his part. "Try telling that to my dads lawyer."  
  
"I will. You gotta stay here, and make sure I stay on the straight and narrow. I mean, sure, I can easily find a new best friend in such a ginormous city, but we both know I'm too lazy." Spot sighed in relief as his friend let out a laugh.  
  
"Hey, let's go for a walk." Race said suddenly.  
  
"I'm not in much of a walking mood."  
  
"But...it could be the last walk we ever take together."  
  
Spot looked up guiltily only to see Race grinning. "Oh, you're not tricking me into that. Goofy little Italian, thinking you can swindle your best friend."  
  
"Hey, I'm not goofy...I'm cute, and lovable." Race stuck out his lower lips, and made his eyes as large as possible. He was going for the wounded puppy look, but judging by the look on Spots face, he just made the face a murderer made before murdering.  
  
"Cute isn't the word for that one, doll face."  
  
"Doll face? What am I, one of your girlfriends? Your many, many girlfriends?" He hoped he didn't sound as jealous as he felt.  
  
Spot, however, didn't notice either way. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was tweaking up at the edges, the way it did when he had—or thought he had—a great idea. "I know! You and me will get married! Then your dad will either disown you or be so happy that you're with your one true love, he'll go to California all alone. He will write an occasional letter, and will send a—what the hell is so funny?"  
  
Race simply couldn't hold in his laughter. It was just too hilarious. "Well, Mr. Smart, who's gonna wear the dress?"  
  
"Well, I suppose if one of us must, I will. I do have a nicer body, after all." Before Race could protest, Spot was on his knees in front of the bench. He yanked off his own quarter machine fake silver ring and held it in front of the stunned Italian's face. "Anthony Higgin's, will you marry me?"  
  
"Well, I don't know...you haven't even taken me to dinner yet." Race answered jokingly, still not taking his pretty blond friend seriously. It was just like him to pull this kind of stunt. Anything to cheer Race up; it was sweet, really.  
  
Spot merely rolled his eyes. "We've had dinner together more than a thousand times, and we've been to more movies than I can count, and we've slept in the same bed, we've had baths together, we've talked about private and embarrassing things, and...And I know you're favorite food in the whole world!"  
  
Race laughed at his friends' antics, and had to admit, he couldn't argue with anything Spot had said. "Well, we haven't kissed." He made his voice an octave higher. "Do I dare marry a man who I have not kissed?"  
  
Spot rolled his eyes. "Mere technicality." He launched himself forward all of the sudden, pushing his lips against Races. It was short and sweet, and did not last nearly long enough to leave either boy satisfied. Regardless, he pulled away. "So? Nothing stopping us now. You gonna marry me or not?"  
  
Race bit his lip, obviously in doubt. So maybe Spot wasn't joking as much as he thought at first. With a huge smile, he replied, "You're damn straight I'll marry you!"  
  
Neither thought it odd when they parted with a kiss, as Spot had a twenty minute walk ahead of him, and Race had to get home for dinner. Race promised to call Spot after he talked to his parents about the moving situation, and then they were gone.  
  
********  
  
"MOM! PHONE!" Spot had just gotten out of the shower, and wasn't exactly into answering the phone naked. Still, his mother had selective hearing, which was why he answered the phone, pissed off and naked. "Yeah?"  
  
"Spotty?" Spot sucked in a breath.  
  
"Race. What's the verdict?"  
  
Race waited a second before answering. "Well, dad says it's okay for me to stay, I'll just visit him on weekends and stuff. He just wants to know one thing?"  
  
He didn't answer for a moment, and he put his hand over the receiver as he cried "WOOOO" as loud as he could. "So..." he asked casually, "What's the question?"  
  
"He, uh, just wants to know where the honeymoon is."  
  
++++++++++++++++  
  
Okay, that was my new Spot/Race fic. Short, and hopefully sweet. I'm not exactly a romance guru. 


End file.
